Baby Let's Get Down Tonight
by hvrcules
Summary: It's been a good night, and even though Matt's crashed on her couch with three stab wounds and a twisted ankle, somehow Claire knows everything will end up alright. Rated T for language.


**AN: Or, I headcanon sappyfluffball!Matt and Claire letting herself be wooed by the Murdock charm. This was supposed to be light and fluffy and happy but things happened omg. I feel like Matt is super poetic on the inside and has no off button to his flirt setting on the outside, with a dash of self-deprecation and Claire doesn't take any of his shit. The song is Sexual Healing by Marvin Gaye (I listened to both the original and the Kygo remix while writing this), and it's really nice and relaxing and partially inspired me to write this. Hope you like it!**

 **(note: the whole thing is Matt's POV. no narrarator switching this time around.)**

"Doo doo doo doo" Matt's eyes slowly fluttered open, his head shifting to better hear the faint strains of humming.

"Baaaby-" The sound of Claire's voice, singing surprising on-key refrains, brought a small smile to his face. He relaxed back down into her cushions, content to simply listen to the sound of her bare feet shuffling along her apartment floor and hips swaying to a Marvin Gaye tune (Foggy had made him sit through that exact song a few days ago, he recalled) in her earbuds. The fire that illustrated her in his mind was soft and gentle, all curves and simple pleasures.

"I'm hot just like an oven, I need some loving." Her arms were swaying now, her hair shifting with what was probably the bobbing of her head.

"You like to dance?" He spoke hoarsely. She jumped slightly, whipping around to face him.

"Holy- Aren't you supposed to be asleep? Recharging your saving-the-world batteries or something?" Her heart rate had spiked, the comforting beat speeding up when he spoke. An earbud had fallen out from her sudden movement of twisting around to face him, the tinny melodies of a piano and what sunshine would sound like blasting through the room.

"Actually, this body only recharges after being found in a dumpsters by decent-looking nurses." He allowed a tiny smirk to rise on his face, stretching out his arms and sides, testing out Claire's perfect (as usual, he thought, with a tiny flicker of pride) stitches. Her cheeks had flushed, a bashful smile most likely on her face. Not for the first time, Matt wished he could see it.

* * *

"I'll have you know that in Ancient Greece, my beauty would have launched at least a thousand ships in my honor." Her calloused fingers brushed against his shoulder, examining the first apparent puncture wound, even though it had passed her inspection a few hours earlier.

"Your beauty would still launch a thousand ships in your honor, you know." Her fingers stilled, her breath catching in her throat. He quickly backtracked, realizing what he just said might have shattered the china-fragile truce forged between them.

"I'm sorry- I didn't mean to- " The smile of candlelight and slow-burning embers drifted onto her face.

"Keep talking like that, Murdock, and you'll have as many groupies as Stark." Claire's chuckle brought a heat to his face.

"It worked didn't it?"

"What worked?"

"It made you smile." They sat in silence for a long moment, her gaze electric on his face. Matt leaned into the gentle warmth of her shoulder, sleepy happiness flowing through his mind. Her arms came up unbidden, pressing him to her shoulder in the first hug they'd shared for a while.

* * *

"You never did answer my original question." Claire extracted herself slowly from the embrace, her comfort leaving him instantly. He found himself missing it, missing the dissipating scent of her on his skin and the reassuring thump-thump of her heartbeat, so close to his own.

"I like moving spastically around in my apartment to Top 40 songs, yes." He cleared his throat.

"Unfortunately, I'm not as well versed with 'moving spastically' then I am with the Russian mob, so I'm probably not the best judge of that." Her hand touched his shoulder once more.

"I thought you were good at everything, Mr. Superhero."

"I'm not a superhero." His good mood (partially induced by the local anesthetic Claire had administered before she'd put him back together) dropped away like a curtain.

"Okay you know what? That right there-" She paused for a moment, her hand coming up to about the level of his nose. Seventy five percent chance she was pointing at him.

"That is what pisses me off the most about you, Matthew Murdock. I don't care if it is the Catholicism, or whatever insane amount of humility and selflessness you were just born with, you are a good man. I've seen the criminals they bring in to be treated, the ones you beat the shit out of. I've seen the victims who get to go home to a loving family, to children or spouses or parents because you saved them." Her words hung in the air between them, the tension thick and heady.

His breath caught in his lungs.

"There are innocent people sleeping safe and bad men with difficult lives because of you. Because you are a goddamned hero. And don't you even lry to deny it."

He tried to murmur something, to convince her of what he saw, that he was not the hero or saint she said he was. That he didn't deserve her forgiveness, or her enduring belief, or her.

Her palm came up to rest against his mouth, silencing any response he could have. Matt swallowed his rebuttal and let her shush him.

* * *

She gently let go of him, pulling him up onto his feet without much protest.

"Now come on, how about you take me around the dance floor?" The tang of salt and tears crisped the air, and he gently reached up and brushed the droplets from Claire's face, his calloused fingers caressing her cheeks.

"I'd love to." Matt touched the beginnings of a tiny smile on her face, the happiness beginning to radiate off of her. She pulled away from him for a moment, placing her phone in a set of speakers before turning on the same song as before.

 _~Oh baby let's get down tonight~_

His hands came to rest on her hips, his fingers tracing circles into the soft exposed skin where her shirt had ridden up. Claire's arms loosely encircled his neck, her lips brushing against his stubbled cheek whisper light. He turned his head sharply, pressing his mouth to hers, a murmur of pleasure echoing from her throat.

"What does-"

"I changed my mind." She whispered into his ear.

Happiness bubbled up in him, accompanied by the oddest feeling, something beautiful he hadn't felt in awhile. _Love,_ he recalled.

They spent the rest of the evening in peaceful silence, swaying and moving around her living room, only the sounds of Hell's Kitchen traffic from outside and crooning voices from her music player filling the space around them.

* * *

fin.

 **AN: This was waaay more cheesy and fluffy then I planned. It was supposed to be a short, sweet, and light little fic, but kinda ended up angsty and serious and idk. I really hope I managed to keep everyone in canon, or as close as possible. This was also inspired by another fic, this one from AO3. I can't recall the name right now, but it's essentially where Matt asked Claire to teach him how to dance and they get a happy ending and it's adorable. Please review if you liked it, and thanks for reading!**


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